The Sandman
by Abe Lincoln Lover
Summary: A cryptic note leaves the police baffled, signed only by "The Sandman." People start disappearing, and time starts to run out. And finally, when the stakes are higher than ever before, it becomes a possibility that maybe this time they'll be too late...
1. ARC 1 : NO SPEAK JAPANESE

**[_]ARC 1**

**[_]CHAPTER 1**

**[_]NO SPEAK JAPANESE**

_May 28, 2009_

"Hakuba? Oi, Hakuba, wake up. Mitsuhiko-kun has a couple questions to ask you. And Yoko-chan's missing her boyfriend, so you better wake up _this instant or I swear I will sic Kuroba on you_."

Hakuba's eyes blinked open groggily. Where was he? Who was talking – and what were they even talking about? They were... they were talking to him, right? He contemplated the people reference before he decided he just _did not want to know_. Seconds later he revoked his choice because he actually kind of wanted to know (and needed to). He forced his vision to become less blurry and focused in on the person hovering above him.

Short black hair, glasses, and a snarky tone... the name "Kudo Shinichi" came to mind, but he recalled that a certain antidote hadn't been created yet. So "Edogawa Conan" it was, then. Well, at least until anybody that didn't know the secret had left the room. And he wasn't really sure how many people – or who – were in the room so he decided to not risk blowing the guy's cover. "Edogawa-kun... what happened? Did we – did we catch him? Did we catch the Sandman?"

**[_][_][_][_][_][_]**

**THE SANDMAN**

**[_][_][_][_][_][_]**

_October 12, 2008_

"..."

A content silence filled the room. It creeped Hakuba the hell out, but really, what else was new. He turned his head towards the source of the happiness, the faucet of joy, and found it to be one Kuroba Kaito (not surprisingly). His thoughts drifted back to the events of the previous night, where Kaitou Kid (who was apparently _not_ Kaitou Kid) had, once again, outwitted Nakamori-keibu and company. Hakuba himself, while still a bit disappointed, was now pretty much taking it as a given that they weren't going to catch Kid at those heists. The Inspector, on the other hand, took it as a personal offence and was shocked every time that the thief managed to break loose from his grasp. And then there was Kuroba, who just sat on the sidelines and watched and laughed. Apparently. But, seriously, who believed _that_?

Aoko-chan stomped into the class, infuriated. Presumably the anger stemmed from the events of last night, but there were always other possibilities. What type of detective would Hakuba be if he didn't step back and observe _all_ the different scenarios. But one thing he was certain about, and that was that her ire had something to do with Kuroba. It made him stop and think a bit that she and Kuroba were still best friends despite all the embarrassment he put her through, but the curiosity was quickly satisfied when he reminded himself that the two _fancied_ each other, and would put up with the other's quirks for as long as they were able. He pouted inwardly as he wished that Aoko-chan would feel the same way for him, but that relationship was a lost cause. Had been, actually, for a while now. Probably forever, but it made him feel _just a bit_ better if he thought of himself actually having a chance before.

He copied his homework down from the blackboard on the side wall, keeping an open ear for any arguments that would ensue. He was fairly certain that he wouldn't get involved in any of them, but hey – you never knew when that information would be useful. The latest gossip, while of no interest to him in particular, could be somehow helpful on a case. He doubted that half the stuff he heard, though, would ever help him, but he kept his ears open in any case. You really never knew _what_ killers had going through their heads, _why _they were killing a person. He remembered, with a faint sense of morbid amusement, that a person had seriously been killed over the brand of purse they had (long story short, a girl had bought the same handbag as her ex-boyfriend's girlfriend, and one of the two – he forgot which it was, it was ridiculous either way – stabbed the other with a hairpin in a fit of rage and jealousy... somehow it was lethal). So, yeah. Gossip. Eavesdropping. And he was getting quite good at it, anyway.

Keiko and Akako were talking. For some reason. He was quite curious about the topic of their conversation, but also kind of scared because the two had absolutely nothing alike and anything they could be talking about would have to be pretty weird. This was further supported by the one line he accidentally overheard from Keiko ("Really? I didn't know you could do that with a condom and a lollipop!") and then another one from Akako ("It's true. All you need is the right brand of Tequila and a bass clarinet."). His ears threatened to implode from all the... verbal weirdness he was hearing. His hands effectively tied, he turned his attention to elsewhere – namely, Aoko-chan and Kuroba. Aoko-chan was screaming so it didn't really take too much eavesdropping skill on his part to listen in. "KAITO I SWEAR I WILL BREAK MY FOOT OFF IN YOUR ASS IF YOU DON'T GIVE ME THE GOD DAMN PENCIL BACK."

Huh. Someone was a bit high-strung today, apparently.

Kuroba was backing away, hands held up in fear. "I told you already, Aoko. I accidentally left it at home. I'll bring it back tomorrow, okay?"

"YOU SON OF A BITCH THAT WAS MY ONLY NUMBER TWO PENCIL!" she ranted. "WE HAVE A TEST TODAY! HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO FILL OUT THE SCAN TRON!?"

"Um," he gave. Probably not the best answer – oh, who was he kidding, it was probably the worst answer he could have given. Aoko-chan looked downright murderous, and Hakuba knew that she could and would kill Kuroba in a couple of seconds if he didn't stop acting like an idiot. Kuroba looked quickly over to Hakuba for advice, distraction, _anything, _but Hakuba wasn't about to help him out anytime soon. "Sorry, _Kaitou Kid-san,_" he mouthed.

Kuroba had a lot of birds; doves, doves, doves, and more doves, and probably a parrot but that little tidbit wasn't confirmed yet. He also had another bird - a little birdie - which he promptly showed to Hakuba seconds before he dashed away from Aoko-chan in fear of his life. Hakuba snickered to himself, but stayed in his chair and watched the fight from afar. The teacher strolled in with his briefcase, gave a sigh, and took his seat at his desk in the front of the classroom. The students knew he had given up on bringing order to the two long ago. In fact, nobody, not one student even looked up as the chase occurred. And when Kuroba tripped over Hakuba's long legs that peeked out from under his desk on purpose, not a single mouth moved to say "oh."

A tall tall tall towering Aoko-chan leered at Kuroba's prone body, and the three of them – the two involved and the other "not so much" - all knew simultaneously that he was really in for it this time. She kicked him once, twice, thrice in the stomachy area. He didn't respond. A bit of fear flashed across her face, but was swiftly covered up with a stoic, cold expression. "Get the hell up, baka."

"Ngh... Señorita, no me gusta que me patadas en el estómago."

_What._

"Kaito, you better quit screwing with me if you like your freaking HEAD ON YOUR SHOULDERS!"

"Me gusta mi cabeza sobre mis hombros. Por favor, no lo saque de allí."

_The._

"You have one more chance, baka. Stop talking in whatever language that is and get the hell up!"

"Tengo demasiado miedo de levantarse, Señorita."

_Hell._

Okay, Aoko-chan was royally pissed now. She reached down and pulled him up furiously. His eyes were wide and he tried to get away, but her iron grip of anger was too strong for him. Or maybe that fall made him a bit off his game, loosened a few screws. Hakuba found himself caring while not caring. At least it would make Kaitou Kid easier to catch, at the very least. His dark humor failed to amuse him.

"Erm, Aoko-chan, don't be so rough with him," he found himself saying. Since when did he care about Kuroba's well-being? The guy was a professional pain-in-the-ass, for God's sake! "He might have a concussion, or worse. Who knows. And I don't know why, but I think him speaking in Spanish isn't on purpose."

Everything changed about her in a second. Her shocked expression, those watery, sorry eyes. She believed Hakuba - who wouldn't? - and all her anger ebbed away, leaving her with only apologies and nothing more. Why hadn't she thought of that? Why hadn't she been more careful? And why was she even beating her own best friend up? Sure, he was a complete jerk (a complete asshole, really) but he didn't really deserve that. She looked down in remorse, thinking on what she had done. Not just then, but all the other times as well.

"¿Estas bien, Aoko? Lo siento yo no pongo de pie cuando usted quería que yo. Yo tenía miedo, obviamente. Por favor, perdóname? No va a suceder de nuevo, lo prometo. Quizás."

"Kaito, I don't even understand what you're saying. Wait... can you understand me? Yes or no. Err, sí or no."

"Sí. ¿Por qué lo preguntas? ¿No estamos todos hablando el mismo idioma?"

"Okay, hey, Hakuba-kun? Can you translate? Do you know the language he's saying?" Her eyes looked down at him hopefully. It was like she had rested all her hopes and dreams on him. And now he was going to have to be the bad guy. He was going to have to crush them all. Now, how was the best way to go about something like this -

"I can speak Spanish," Keiko piped up, ostensibly done with her strange, _strange_ conversation with Akako. Every head in the room whipped around to look at her, because knowing how to speak Spanish while living in Japan was just plain weird. Because, yeah, the school offered foreign language classes, but nobody really took them / nobody ever paid attention. An utterly forgettable and completely irrelevant to the storyline student in the way back of the classroom called out and told her to prove it. She replied, "Perra, no necesito demostrar nada a usted."

Kuroba being the only one to understand that, was outraged. "Eso es un hombre! ¿Por qué llamarlo así?"

"Él es una puta!"

"No, él es un hijo de puta. El género es muy importante." Kuroba tsked at her, smirking like always. The rest of the class watched on with disbelief, wondering what on Earth they were even saying. Some of them understood a few words here and there, but nobody really got the full translation. Aoko-chan was about to intervene when the teacher spoke up. "No deberías decir esas cosas acerca de sus compañeros de clase. Especialmente cuando ellos no pueden entender."

"Okay, I am completely lost. I'm putting a stop to this," Aoko-chan stated. She dragged Kuroba to his desk and forced him down. "Speak Japanese, baka! You aren't Spanish, so don't speak it! You've already wasted enough class time with your annoying tricks, and I'm sure the teacher would like to continue with the lesson."

"Estoy hablando japonés."

She slapped her forehead.

…

**AN: Yeah... I know I have other stories to update, but this sort of just came out. So... yeah. It's more from the point of view of Hakuba but not really. I dunno. In case anybody was confused, the entire story's going to be a flashback, leading up to the events of the beginning. I'm not really going to answer any questions about the beginning because you're ****_supposed_**** to be confused. It's the only form of amusement I get. Just kidding. But really I have no idea where I'm actually going with this story so I'll just go with the flow.**

**Also, I have little to no knowledge of how to speak Spanish, so I just used Google Translate. If I have any errors (okay, it's Google Translate; ****_obviously_**** there's going to be errors) just bear with me, or if you're fluent, suggest the right way to say the sentence. I don't know. I don't care. But I just wanted you to know that.**


	2. ARC 1 : BOMBS GALORE

**[_]ARC 1**

**[_]CHAPTER 2**

**[_]BOMBS GALORE**

Eighth period rolled around, and Hakuba huffed out a sigh of relief. Still no sign of Kuroba coming back (he had been sent to the nurse's office, but Aoko-chan, who had brought him there, reported back that he had not been sent home as of yet... something about his mom not being there and it being safer in the long run to just keep him at the school) so that was always something to be grateful for. The guilt had settled in hours ago – he _did_ trip him on purpose, after all – so he couldn't help but worry about him. Still, it was pretty nice not having to worry about what tricks the guy was up to.

Aoko-chan was looking down and he knew it was because her best friend was hurt. She probably blamed herself for what happened. He went through the conversation in his head to console her ("Aoko-chan, it's not your fault." "I know that, Hakuba-kun, but still..." "Don't be that way. He deserved it, anyway." "That's true. You're always right, Hakuba-kun. And smart. Can I call you Saguru, please? You're so hot. I absolutely love you -") but it ended up getting weird so he chickened out. He didn't even like Aoko-chan, at least not in that way. He liked her as a sister. No more, and no less. Perhaps he liked her as... something _else_ before, but that was then. This was now. He was a logical man and knew when to give up on something.

The teacher was blabbing on about history – he wasn't even listening closely to tell what the topic was even about – and he found his eyes trailing over to the window. The window was... odd. Something was off about it. _What?_ But why... why would something be wrong with the _window_? He was being ridiculous. Over-tired, or something. Nothing was wrong with the window, it was the same as it always was. He blinked a couple times and rubbed his eyes out. Nope. Still there. What was it that was making him feel that way? He made a mental note to go check it out once class was over. He doubted there was anything wrong, but still... you could never be sure. Hunches sometimes turned out to be correct.

Tick tick tick. Time was going by _really_ slow. Tick tick tick. Couldn't he, say, just get up and walk over to it and see what was up? Tick tick tick. Kuroba was really good with distractions. If only he was still here... but what was up with the window? Why – why was it sticking in his brain like that, like it was super glued in? He wondered if anyone else noticed, but he doubted they did because he was pretty sure he was going crazy. Kaitou Kid tended to do that to people, and _after all_, his latest heist was _last night_. So there. His answer. Nothing wrong with the freaking window. All Kid's fault. Case closed, la-da-da, matter put to rest.

He stared at the blackboard and tried to make himself concentrate. Tried to take his mind off the simple glass pane. Nope. Not happening. He turned his attention to his paper. Tried writing some notes that the teacher was lecturing about. Half-assed. Still not working. It bothered him, anyway, that his paper was almost completely blank while the rest of the class had practically-black pages. Jeez, he was going to fail the next test, wasn't he...

Tick tick tick. Widened eyes turned towards the clock. What? Something about it. Strange. He was getting paranoid, wasn't he? Why was this happening? The anxiety was only settling in now, so it couldn't have been anything he ate, couldn't really be anything that had happened... something Kid had pulled last night? Was something like that possible? Did something like that even _exist_? He was being stupid. Kid didn't do things like that. He would never just pull a prank on someone and have the effects only settle in hours _after_ the heist. It didn't make sense. Kaitou Kid may act crazy and sporadic all the time, but he sure did have his crap together. He wasn't insane, and he sure wouldn't do that. Besides, _what_ would he have even used to induce this level of anxiety on him? Nothing like that existed. Hakuba gulped. So was he really crazy, then? His mind continued searching for the answer.

But the clock, keeping its tick tick ticking, still bothered him. And the window. Why. Why. Why. He was going crazy. The last minutes of class were coming to a close. The teacher was saying close your books. He silently thanked her for being generous enough to give them the last couple moments of class to relax and talk. He stood from his seat and ran to the window, way past curious and absolutely needing to know what the hell was bothering him. Why did everything seem so wrong about this situation,

Okay. Why the hell was there a piece of paper taped to the outside of the window. His mind was going a mile a minute as he cracked the pane open and reached out to grab it _("Paper on the outside... that means a passerby put this here, not one of the students...")_. A minute left until the end of class. He unfolded the note and read it.

Hakuba Saguru:

This is our first game to play. If you can figure it out, I'll set another one up. If you can't, then you're going to lose a lot more than you want.

-The Sandman

PS: Time is running out.

_This was...!_

How much time was left? He glanced up at the clock, as if that would hold the key. Stupid! What game was it that they were even playing? 'Lose a lot more than you want' – what could that mean? People's lives at stake? God, he hoped not... tick tick tick oh crap that's what it meant.

Twenty seconds, not enough time if he waited any longer. "Everybody, get out!" he shouted. His classmates just gave him blank stares, some of them not hearing him since they were too engrossed in their own conversations. Fifteen seconds. They were all going to be screwed if they didn't get out of there as soon as possible. "Guys, get out! _Now! _There's a bomb!"

Of course, he could just be overreacting. But then again, it could all be real. But there wasn't much time left to ponder this, and he set about trying to herd everyone into the hallway. Some people listened, but others refused just because they were stubborn. Five seconds. He cursed rather loudly but just kept screaming for everyone to leave. People were getting pretty scared at this time, now, and were actually taking him seriously. But there wasn't enough time. He was too late. _He was too late_. He moved himself towards Aoko-chan, who was frightened herself, but busy trying to persuade people to get out. He pulled her wrist away and dragged her under a desk with him just as the bell for the period to end sounded.

Everything happened so fast that he wasn't even sure at this point if he was imagining it or not. A bright flash, a loud sound that seemed a lot like thunder even though there wasn't even a storm outside, and numerous hard objects crashing into him. He hugged Aoko-chan close – dammit, even if Kuroba wasn't here _someone _had to take care of her – and forced them both to the ground. He knew they would be hit with less... stuff if they were like that. The desk overtop them had long flown away, it felt like.

People were screaming, people were crying, people were hurting. They were moaning and moaning and wailing in agony and dear God _it was all his fault_. His eyes were shut tight and he didn't really know why but he was thankful that they were. He gathered his courage to open them and survey the damage done. They peeked open slowly, vision blurry but able to see all the same. He stared at Aoko-chan first.

Damn, she looked awful. Scratches and scratches and all this blood on her. He wondered if it was even all hers, the amount that was puddling around her. He was suddenly very scared, more scared than he had ever been before. Scared that someone so close to him – someone he thought of as a _sister_ – could actually be gone. What if? The what if's flooded his mind. _It was all his fault_. He should've trusted his instinct and checked it out sooner. Why did he wait so long? This... this could have all been avoided. But he just wanted to save face, and...

He stared down at his own hands. They were covered in maroon, the color of fresh blood. So fresh. Blood that would never enter a body again. Once it came out it never went back in. His eyes widened as he looked more and more and then started looking around the classroom. Everything was gone. Ruined. Destroyed. _It was all his fault_. Why? _Why _had he allowed this to happen? People were by the door, sitting up slightly, not able to get up all the way because they were in too much pain. He didn't feel anything. He didn't feel any pain at all. He was too numb, because dear God _it was all his fault_.

He held his hand to his side, where he felt a cold faucet of not-blood (it wasn't blood it wasn't blood it wasn't blood) and tried to stand up (if it wasn't blood then it didn't happen). He collapsed back onto the floor because his legs were too weak to stand the pressure (if it didn't happen it wasn't his fault). He put his other hand to the floor instead to try to steady himself and get his head clear (not his fault not his fault not his fault). Years and years went by and then Aoko-chan opened her eyes and thank God she wasn't dead. She murmured slowly, "What... happened?"

"I didn't," _know,_ he wished, "think."

She gaped at him, some sort of betrayal dancing in her eyes. Like she couldn't believe him. Like she thought he was a monster. "What do you mean?"

"I," that seemed like all he could say. He held his hand up to his forehead, headache coming in at full stride. "I."

_'I' a million times over. _If only it was just him. That would've been fair. But that person – that... the Sandman. That guy. The Sandman. He didn't want a fair fight. He was using everything and anything against him. And it was timed just right. At the right place and at the right time. That was certainly something scary, and certainly something that he _really_ didn't want to think about. But yeah, it was one of those things that he was going to have to face eventually. If... no, _when_ he solved this mystery. This crime. This... unspeakable act.

Aoko-chan's face softened considerably. "Are you – are you okay, Hakuba-kun? This was... planned, wasn't it?" He nodded, suddenly rendered speechless. He wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. "But, we'll find the guy that did this, right? We can't let him get away. So don't worry about that, Hakuba-kun. And it wasn't your fault. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. You... there was a note, right? That's what you were looking at before, weren't you? It wasn't your fault. You couldn't have known. It's not your fault."

He coughed a little, into his balled-up hand, specks of reds flying out but he couldn't find it in himself to care. "But... it's my fault. I knew something was wrong. I could've done something sooner. It's... hard to explain. But now, now everyone's hurt. I'm hurt. You're hurt. We could've all gotten out. But... I was _too late_. Dammit. It's all my fault. And don't try to say it isn't, because it is."

"You couldn't have known. You didn't know about the note." Her eyes pleaded to him, asking him to agree. He closed _his _eyes and sighed. No need, no sense worrying her more. Don't get her too excited. Don't get into a fight. "I guess." And that was just about all he could say, to keep himself from lying any more than he had to.

More groaning came from all around him, as people awakened from bouts of unconsciousness. He stared at the ground, quite pissed at himself in general. He commanded his legs to hold himself up, and they reluctantly obliged. He didn't have anything to help himself up with (all the desks were either broken into teeny tiny pieces or crowded against the far wall... he thought back and discovered he couldn't really remember the desk that had been sheltering them getting moved) so it was quite a painful process (in the literal sense and not). He held his hand out to Aoko-chan. "Are you well enough to get up?"

She thought about it for a moment before quickly nodding. "I'm just a little hurt here and there, nothing big. You look terrible yourself, though," she added as an afterthought.

Well thank goodness she was okay. But apparently he wasn't...? He looked down at himself, able to see more clearly now that he wasn't sitting / laying down. The first thing that registered in his mind was that, for having such a black outfit, blood really did show through clearly. He shivered as he took in the sheer _amount_ of it. That was a lot. Wow. But there were more important things right now. "Aoko-chan, are you sure you're okay? If you are, then we can help the others out."

She nodded again, not missing a beat, but stared a while in worry as it occurred to her how _hurt_ he was and that he wasn't even going to think about helping himself out. She crossed her arms over her chest. "You mean, _I'm_ going to help the others out while _you_ stay here and try not to injure yourself more than you already are, _right_?"

That was a scary look she was giving him. He wasn't in the mood to start a fight with her so he just went along with it. "Fine, but that goes for you, too. Don't push yourself too hard."

"Good," and she limped over to another classmate who was still unconscious (he wasn't imagining the limp, right...? He was going to have to make her get that leg checked out later, then, but if it wasn't hurting her _too_ much right now, he would let it slide. He would just keep an eye on it for now) and tried to gently lull them back to the real, awake world. Hakuba watched on, alone now except for his thoughts. The thoughts that it was _all his fault_

And, of course, the stupid note that had somehow wriggled its way into his pocket.

…

**AN: That bomb just got there. Seriously. No but really I'm going to have to change the summary of this story if things keep happening like this. I don't know how that bomb got there but it just did. Hakuba was supposed to just be having a panic attack. His hunch wasn't supposed to be correct.**

**Anyway, coming up: Hakuba blames himself, Aoko... is Aoko, and more! I really have no idea what's supposed to be happening next chapter but I guess the fuzz are supposed to show up! I mean seriously there was a bomb. What do you expect – Edogawa Conan to randomly just show up? Jeez, ****_just_**** because he's mentioned as one of the characters in this story ****_doesn't_**** mean he's going to be in it (yes it does)!**

**Finally, everybody congratulate me. Now. This, I think, is my longest chapter I've ever put up! Like, not counting one-shots or anything. And this didn't even take that long to write (haha it shows, doesn't it) so maybe... this'll be how it is from now on? Maybe. I don't know. 2 CRAY CRAY 4 U**


	3. ARC 1 : THE SKY IS FALLING

**[_]ARC 1**

**[_]CHAPTER 3**

**[_]THE SKY IS FALLING**

The paramedics swarmed in soon after, ambulances coming in by the dozen and stretchers galloping through the hallways like a pack of stampeding buffalo let loose. Hakuba could only watch on as his classmates were helped up and placed on the cots. _ALL YOUR FAULT_ read the ceiling panels as he stared up at them. Not helping. A hand on his shoulder made him jump a mile into the air. "Sir, could you let us treat your injuries and -"

"Not yet. There's other people who are more hurt than me." True. Only too true. He hadn't been nearly as close as the others to the bomb (a short while ago he had examined the scene as a whole and made his deduction that perhaps the bomb had been placed inside the clock... which was right above the door that everybody had been using as an exit) and had had at least _some_ form of shelter, as weak as that desk had turned out to be. The medic stared at him for a moment, looking like he had something to say before changing his mind and just keeping quiet. Hakuba wished that people could just say what they needed to say, tell others what was on their minds. No more of this 'keep it to yourself' business. Then again, back in Britain his mother was always on his back about how much of a hypocrite he could be sometimes. He bit his tongue to keep a snide retort down before continuing, long pause still existing. "The people by the door got hit the hardest. They were the closest to the bomb's range." And quieter still, "And if you could check up on her," he pointed at Aoko-chan, "I would greatly appreciate it."

"Will do, Sir," the man bowed slightly before running over to her. Hakuba didn't bother watching the exchange, but he did catch a bit nonetheless. Aoko-chan refusing, the paramedic insisting, a stretcher being motioned over, more refusal from Aoko-chan. She got onto the stretcher, though, surprisingly enough. As she was brought out she stuck her tongue out at him. "Hakuba-kun, I'm fine, so don't worry. Go get yourself some help. It's out of your hands now so you don't need to stick around."

He snorted once she left. _Out of my control, sure. Doesn't mean there was nothing I could do._ But since when had he become so cynical? He blamed it on Kuroba. That guy was practically breathing his personality onto every person he met, and they had nothing else that they could do but breathe it in. Conform. Adapt. He smirked slightly at the thought of "adapting to Kuroba-ism" despite the grim circumstances that had led to that train of thought. Despite the grave setting he now found himself in. And his smile only became more pronounced as that idea struck him. Kuroba really did seem to have that affect on people, didn't he...

It occurred to him, not for the first time that day, that Kuroba was not there. It seemed kind of ironic, seeing that trouble usually followed that guy everywhere, and the day he just happened to not be there, something like _this_ happens. But then again... but then again, Kuroba was never absent. And suddenly this was too much to be a coincidence. And also suddenly, Hakuba found himself with a rather large head ache that was painfully worming itself through his skull and pounding angrily at his temple. He had half a mind to whack his head to try to get the ache out, but then again, it _felt_ like he only had half a mind to start with anyway.

He became subconsciously aware of a slight crumbling sound. At first he didn't mind it all that much, but as the sound settled in more and more he realized the actual weight and gravity it held in this situation (no pun intended). He scanned the room, mostly the ceiling for signs of something giving way so that he could get everyone away from that specific spot. He didn't want to herd everyone into a corner of the room only to find that he had just led them all into danger. He didn't want a repeat of last time.

Sure enough, a small hairline crack just barely visible to the naked human. eye was resting just around the area where the door was located. Which meant that there were now a few options; a) get everybody out as fast as possible and risk disturbing people's wounds, b) stay put and crowd against the opposite wall, and lastly c) not do anything and pretend he didn't see anything. Okay, letter c was obviously eliminated. He scolded himself for even coming up with that option, before sulkily reminding himself that it really _was_ a choice he could make. And some people actually made that choice before. He found that hard to believe until he remembered that he had been sitting in class for a full twenty minutes _knowing something was wrong_ before actually bothering to do something about it. He tried to argue that that example was completely out of context and therefore did not count, but the other part of his brain that he was debating with told the truth very clearly that, yes, it did count. Because he had the option to do something, _anything_, and he _didn't_.

So there he was, calling out to the emergency responders that he spotted a crack in the ceiling, most likely caused by the bomb and _not_ having already been there. They all pitched in – they, meaning Hakuba, the responders, and his other classmates that were already up and walking – and helped usher the wounded over to a safer corner with (hopefully) less cracks in the ceiling. Nobody complained this time, nobody doubted him this time. Everybody just did as they were told. Because he was Hakuba, the kid that got straight A's and knew the answer to every question that sensei asked. Because he was Hakuba, the kid that was a great detective and could tell a whole lot of random details about a person's life just by shaking their hand. Because he was Hakuba, the kid that _knew about the bomb_. Because he was Hakuba, and he was never wrong.

And sure enough, he wasn't wrong. It took ten, maybe twenty minutes, but eventually the ceiling _did_ fall down. Curling white clouds of dust overtook the room. People hacked and coughed and whooped and spat. Dust dust dust. Dust everywhere. Once it all settled, everybody was looking a lot paler than before. Hakuba, himself, set about picking some particles out of his hair once he saw how ridiculous everyone else looked with their jet black hair all grayed and whitened by shocking white ceiling debris. He stopped when he remembered that it wouldn't show as easily on his European blonde hair, and also when he remembered that this wasn't exactly the time _nor_ the place to be worrying about looks.

What was the most horrifying aspect of the ceiling falling down was the fact that somehow everybody had failed to comprehend what the action of "falling down" actually meant for them all. The crack had grown larger during that span of maybe twenty minutes and had expanded to the already weak doorframe. When the ceiling went down, their only exit went as well. It wasn't blocked. It was _collapsed_. Gone. And while there were, of course, windows, they had a room full of wounded people that couldn't even stand themselves up on their own two feet, let alone jump out a window. Hakuba considered it all and ended up just being grateful that they were on the first floor, and so hopefully it wouldn't be that much of a hassle getting them out.

He was still kind of in shock about the whole ordeal. Sure, he had witnessed every last piece of it – every last event of it – but it still seemed sort of... _surreal_. Like he was just dreaming. But he had never, not once, had a dream quite so realistic as this one, where he could feel pain and feel guilty for not knowing about knowing. He vainly wished it all to be a dream, a passing nightmare he could laugh about while disclosing the details of it over some tea and crumpets with Baaya. But everything was just too real to be a dream, and he already knew that. He knew that the moment he opened that window to get the paper taped to it.

Sometimes he wondered what would have happened if he had just let things be. If he had not known anything about the note, or about the bomb, or about anything. Would... would people actually be less injured? He _was _the one, after all, that had made such a fuss about getting everybody to and out the door. And the door was, in essence, Madame Guillotine. Which reminded him – and gave him another thing to be grateful about – that he had not yet heard of any fatalities that had occurred thus far. Too many casualties, sure, but that was nothing to cry over. He, himself, was just another number in the casualty count. And he was fine. Wasn't he? Because he sure felt fine, if not a little numb. Or maybe he was hurt, and the numbness was just covering it up. He looked down at himself once again, and retook in all the blood on his clothes. It still amazed him, how it was able to bleed through black fabric. He made a mental note to research that (for God knows what reason) when he got home.

A little tapping made itself known to him again, the sound a little louder than the faint crack-crackling he had heard half an hour ago. Tap tap tap tap tap. What was that? The door was a dead end (again, no pun intended). So... surely that was something at the window lattice? Ah, this truly was a mystery to explore. Who – or what – could possibly be rapping at the classroom window? Hakuba pondered this along with numerous allusions to _The Raven_ as he made his way over.

Ah. _That's_ what it was. Truth be told, he had sort of been expecting as much.

**…**

**AN: Um, I have nothing to say about this except it is a day light due to excessive amounts of homework yesterday. And that it's a bit short, but hey – it was a great place to put in a cliffhanger. Because, you know, my sole purpose in this world is to annoy the heck out of you guys. I've said it before, and I say it again now. It's only the truth, after all. (Just kidding it's not.)**

**And well, about that cliffie. Unlike _everything else_ in this story, I actually have it planned out. Figured it all out in my head while writing. And by "all", I mean first two paragraphs of the next chapter. Somehow I'm going to have to come up with like four other pages on Word to fill up Chapter 4. Jeez, I don't even know what's going to happen next. I'm just going with the flow and hoping it all works out. (That's probably not the correct way to write a good story but whatever. It's a free country – well, at least where I live it is)**

**Please note: There is an intentional punctuation error in this chapter. I put it there because it made me laugh. If you find it and it doesn't make you giggle, then I don't think this is the story for you (or maybe it is. I don't know. I'm not you).**


	4. ARC 1 : DISBELIEVING THE FACTS

**[_]ARC 1**

**[_]CHAPTER 4**

**[_]DISBELIEVING THE FACTS**

_Truth be told, he had sort of been expecting as much._

He stared down through the unbroken window - the only window that had remained mostly unshattered in the entire room - and smirked a bit, admittedly genuinely happy to see the person there. Because the presence of that person meant a lot more things than first came to mind. Namely the fact that he wasn't in the nurse's office any longer and was therefore _probably_ not speaking Spanish. He undid the latches on the window and pushed it out all the way. He whispered out to the person, voice quiet so as to not disturb the others in the room but laced with sarcasm thick enough to be sliced with a knife. "What a fantastic time for you to drop in, Kuroba!"

"Hey, cut the crap, Hakuba. What the hell happened in here?" Straight to the point. But... It seemed sort of odd for _Kuroba_ of all people to not know what was going on. Sure, he hadn't actually been there when the whole bomb thing happened, but still. Kuroba always seemed to know everything, and if he didn't he would act like it. Hakuba then found himself slightly shaken - slightly scared - slightly apprehensive that the situation was serious enough that _Kuroba_ was managing to hold his inner comedian together. He sighed exhaustedly and sweeped a quick glance across the room behind him. "There was... a bomb. Well, first a note, I've got it here, but that doesn't really matter right now -" he pointedly ignored Kuroba's attempt to cut him off about the note; _figures_ that _he'd_ be so interested, "but the fact is that _someone_ planned this. Someone planted that bomb in that clock and knew our bell schedule _well enough _that they were able to detonate the bomb the second the last bell went off. This note tipped me off, but I - I was too late. I tried to get everyone out but there just wasn't enough time. And then the ceiling collapsed on the other side of the room, so now we can't get out. None of us are really well enough to get out on our own, and the ones who _are_ don't want to abandon their friends."

"What about you? You look fine, and you don't really seem like the person that would have any reason to be here." Kuroba was obviously not noticing his blood soaked clothes. That was fine with him. But really, in all seriousness, that guy was acting _really_ off his game today. A brief thought that maybe it _was_ the fall after all came in passing, but was easily brushed off when he recalled that Kuroba had gone through worse. All the same, though, it only took one bad hit to the head...

He shrugged. "I feel sort of responsible for this. You know how it feels," he added. He didn't mention Aoko-chan.

"I would say there's about an eighty percent chance that you're implying something by that," Kuroba grinned like the cat that ate the canary, "but since you know as well as I do that you're wrong about whatever it is that you're trying to blame me for, I'm not even gonna bother telling you otherwise. Now. Back to business," he scoured the room for perhaps the first time. The Poker Face obviously wasn't working as he took everything in. His next question was completely soaked in disbelief. "This all just happened?"

Hakuba frowned, tight lipped about the whole thing. He didn't know why he didn't want to talk about. It would have been logical for him to _want_ to talk about it, for him to _want_ to heave all the worries and strife off his own back and onto someone else more willing. He stared guiltily at the ground, hands in his pockets as he spoke. "...Yes."

"Hmm. Not too shabby, especially for you, Hakuba. I've got to say -"

"Shut the hell up, Kuroba! You know how bad this is! Don't try to lessen the severity of it by just pretending. We're all sick of that, Kuroba – we're all sick of you pretending. That's all you do. Every day, you just waltz in here and _pretend_ you're not Kaitou Kid, _pretend_ you're not up to something, _pretend _that nothing's ever as bad as it really is. How do you think Aoko-chan feels to be _lied_ to like that? Everyday? Stop thinking about yourself. Stop trying to make yourself feel better! Can't you just see that you're hurting everyone else by trying to bring yourself to the top? It's not fair to anyone else. Or – or is that the only thing you care about? Being number one? I'd really hate to think that of you, Kuroba."

"Damn," the other boy looked everywhere else besides Hakuba. "I guess I never really thought about it that way. But you know... there's just – some things in life are just more important, I guess. Just that little bit more important. And – and it takes you away from doing anything else that you want to do in life. But, but really, either way... you – I – don't get a choice in the matter. Life just throws these things at you. I don't want to be like this." He was shaking slightly, but enough that Hakuba was almost sure that the guy was _quivering_. "But I have to."

_That – I'm sorry, Kuroba. But I still don't understand everything about your situation. I never will, not unless you explain it to me. And I'm guessing that won't be for a while, if ever. But you can't keep doing this. Don't. Come on, Kuroba, you're better than this. _"Just – just get in here. Or stay out. Make up your mind. If you come in here then you need to help, though," he added as an afterthought.

Kuroba nodded, shaking long gone and expressionless mask back in place. He heaved himself over the sill and hopped over the short wall. A couple of his classmates finally noticed him and gave him curious glances. He waved to them all and called out, "Long time, no see, guys!" They all harrumphed and turned back to their own business, which, personally, Hakuba liked better. Kuroba didn't need all the attention, anyway. He got enough of it as Kid, that attention-seeking egotistical baka.

And then Kuroba really saw it all. Saw the blood on the floor, still not dry yet. Saw the crushed bodies underneath some of the rubble, still not saved yet. Saw the EMTs shaking the heads, knowing that it was too late for a few of them. Saw the teacher shaking in the corner, scared out of her wits because she didn't know what to do. Saw the entire class crying, shrieking, yelling, wailing for help. When Hakuba looked back at the guy he saw the tear tracks on his face again, face pale and eyes wide. And he was so suddenly brought back to right after the bomb had gone off. People screaming bloody murder. Aoko-chan bloodied and bruised. His entire body numb, with both pain and regret. And then he didn't feel bad for Kuroba at all.

"This..." the forbidden words of disbelief again, "this couldn't have happened. It couldn't have. No. _No._"

That last word, spoken with such believed vivacity, such validity, was what got Hakuba started. "Face it. Kuroba - this happened. Not believing it isn't going to set back time. Come on. You can do this. Pull yourself together and help your classmates out."

For one, Kuroba looked truly astonished with those words. He looked as if Hakuba had just slapped him in the face. But the expression was gone in a second, leaving the teenage detective with lingering doubt as to whether he had just imagined it. But he never did, did he? He never just _imagined _something, it was never just a _figment of his imagination_. He never was a creative person. It was part of the reason why he was such a great detective, in his own opinion. Still, that specific aspect of his personality was never one that he truly prided himself for. But it made him who he was. Which was exactly why he _did not just imagine that look on Kuroba's face_. He thought back through their conversation, searching for whatever it was that he said to get that reaction. He didn't come up with anything. Maybe he was a bit denser than he thought.

Or – or maybe it was something deeper than what he was looking at. Maybe he had dug a little too deep at Kuroba's _own_ personality. That probably was it. He had pointed out the flaws in the guy's Poker Face by simply implying that it wasn't working. He had told him to pull himself together, after all. Or maybe he was just thinking too hard and Kuroba didn't like to get ordered around my some annoying British prick. For some reason he doubted that last one.

"You're right. Sorry. It's nothing." And simple as that, a sheet was thrown over the problem and left to be ignored. It didn't feel right to Hakuba. It felt... wrong. He had no clue why. If Kuroba wanted to forget about it, why shouldn't he go along with it? And really, what had he been expecting from the King of Magic – the King of Smoke, Mirrors, Lies, and Masks – himself? Forgiveness? Pshh. All things considered, and then he still played along anyway. He led him over to the bare edge of the commotion. Kuroba piped up a question that Hakuba really was dreading. "Where's Aoko?"

Personally, he had his own reasons for not wanting to answer that question. It made him think about what she looked like when he had regained consciousness. He remembered all that blood. All that blood. He remembered that feeling of fear. He never wanted to feel that again. And he most prominently remembered her innocent question of what happened. Why was she in pain. Why did it happen. And it pained him most to know that he did, in fact, have those answers. But there were also other reasons why he didn't want to answer Kuroba's question, specifically. For one, he honestly had no idea what had happened to her after they had taken her away. And he didn't want to be the one to tell the guy that he hadn't bothered to follow along. All that aside, what he really didn't want to do, though, was have to tell Kuroba that Aoko-chan had gotten hurt. That was the biggest reason of them all. He didn't want to have to see the guilt written all over the guy's face, saying in big bold letters **"I should've been there" **and he didn't want any disappointed glares from him, either, saying **"You were there. Why didn't you help her?"**

"She's – they got her out. Before the ceiling collapsed over there." He motioned to _there._ "The EMTs took her out. She's safe. Don't worry. I – um. She's not as bad as you think. Just – just a few scratches. Nothing big."

He had never told a bigger lie in his life. Maybe it was the way she walked, with that limp ever so prevalent, but he seemed wary of the prospect that she was okay. She was the type of girl that would hide her pain to make others think she was okay and not have them worry and fret over her. She didn't like attention. She was a wallflower. But for her, a masochist (for lack of a better word), to display so blatantly a limp... There must have been other things that were wrong, as well. And for all Hakuba knew, that was the least of it.

Kuroba was talking now. His thinking had made him miss like half the sentence. He chastised himself for being an idiot during such a matter as this and listened. "- know? Jeez, you're a detective. You should really know more then just that. But it's good that she's okay, I guess." Kuroba looked at Hakuba's eyes. It made him uncomfortable, because it felt like he was looking into his soul and seeing every lie, every bad thing he had ever done. "...you're lying. How bad is she, really? She's – she's not..." The implications hung in the air like hundred pound weights.

A sigh. "There was... _something_ off about her. I couldn't really tell what it was. She had a limp or something. I'm pretty sure she can't be any worse than me, though. But she's going to be fine. She was able to walk around, so there's a plus. So don't look at me and ask me if she's going to die again, okay?"

Nodding, and then silence. It occurred to Hakuba that he really had no idea what to even do. How was he supposed to help his classmates – his friends – the victims of this terrible tragedy? What was he supposed to do? He cast a quick glance at Kuroba but tried to pretend he didn't because he didn't want him to think that there wasn't anything to do. That would make him bored. Nobody liked a bored Kuroba Kaito, in any situation. He was frighteningly terrifying, to say the least. Not to mention that there obviously _had_ to be something to do, since people were still hurt and people were still in desperate need of saving. He stepped over to the giant pile of rubble, where a girl – Honda Kaede, if he remembered correctly – lay unconscious and under a couple pieces of ceiling. She was effectively trapped, and if they got her out quickly enough, she wouldn't even remember a bit of it.

"Kuroba," he called. The other boy rushed over quickly. "Help me pick these tiles off her. The school apparently thought it was a good idea to use twenty pound ceiling tiles and I'm," he gestured to himself, "clearly not well enough to lift these myself." At Kuroba's opposition to that statement, he added, "After all, I did just survive a bombing."

Humorous yet completely insufficient. He knew that. He knew exactly how to play his cards right. Kuroba was the only one that was good at poker. But there was no response, so he took that as Kuroba understanding that he did not want to talk about his injuries at this current moment in time. Good. Because he _really_ didn't feel like finding out just _how badly_ he was hurt. It probably wasn't good. His uniform felt dry and crisp yet slightly damp at the same time. That probably meant that the blood was drying, and if the blood was drying, then he _hopefully_ wasn't bleeding anymore. Whatever. It didn't matter. He held his side of the tile and Kuroba held his. He counted to three and they heaved it up, over to the pile that _wasn't_ on a body. A pile that was close enough that they didn't have to walk around and maneuver the room to put it down, but far enough away that it wouldn't accidently slide off and back onto her. That would be bad.

Ten minutes later – the amount of time it took them was greatly increased by his own handicaps, and only his – they were done. Kuroba, since he had the friendlier face and more personable air about him, crouched down and shook her, seeing if she would wake up. If she didn't, then she had bigger problems and they would probably have to notify one of the paramedics. But she did wake up, so they didn't have to worry about that. The first thing she saw was Kuroba's smiling face.

"Hey, Kaede-chan. How are you feeling?" False cheeriness lightly laced his words, concern being prominent to no one but Hakuba, and only him because he knew what to look for. It was better this way, though; greeting her with "happiness". They didn't want to startle her, especially since she had just gone through something really traumatic. And they didn't know if she could handle it. Better to ease her back into reality.

She looked up incredulously at Kuroba. She was obviously surprised to see him, of all people. Hakuba put himself in her position and agreed with her on that. He'd be surprised, too. He recalled that it had only been last week that Kuroba's antics had brought him to sneaking into the girl's locker room and watching them change after gym class. She had apparently been one of the girls he had spied on. He shook his head at the memory, disgusted that Kuroba would stoop _that_ low. Maybe he would have a little chat with him, after all of this was over...

"I'm good." Then she cringed. She closed her eyes. "Okay... maybe not. But... not too... bad. Just a... little... tired... that's all."

Okay, so she was having breathing problems. That was perfectly understandable, but at the same time something to be treated with caution. Knowing something was there didn't make it any less harmful. He frowned, as he had been doing for just about the last hour or so. Actually, he wasn't sure _how much_ time had already passed. He glanced up at the clock, which read 3:40. School got out at around 2:50, so... he was close. Fifty minutes. Just under an hour. All hell had broken loose in _just under an hour_. It amazed him, and he would have been impressed if it weren't for how grave the situation was. The fact that people were injured – and some were maybe even dead – inevitably floated back to his mind.

Kuroba was busy helping Kaeke up, holding her hand and letting her rest against him. She looked pale and bloody and weak. So different than she had looked an hour. One of her eyes looked swollen shut and her cheek had a huge gash on it. Much too deep to be a simple cut or scrape. His own pain in his side went away as he imagined her injuries on himself. And even that went away as he shoved his hands in his pockets and felt the paper of the note. Speaking of the note...

He tore it out of his pocket and unfolded it (how had it gotten refolded in the first place?). He scanned it. Same message. Same signature. Same result. Nothing changed. But he looked at it, all the more closely than the first time. _'If you can figure it out, I'll set up another one'. _Technically he hadn't figured it out. He had been too late. But at the same time, he _had_ figured it out, in the sense that he knew that there was a bomb _before_ it went off. So – so did that mean that there was going to be another one? His cheeks lost their color and his eyes widened. This whole thing... this whole event was going to happen again.

He crushed the note in his hand. The crinkling sound that the paper made made him feel satisfied. It helped him cope, just that little bit. This was going to happen again. Innocent people were going to get hurt again. People were going to die again. He was going to be too late again. _There was going to a note again._

And he damn well would find that note _before_ it was too late next time.

…

**AN: A couple days late, but what is a girl to do? Longest chapter at 3307 words of actual story (that means not counting author's note, title, etc.). Um. Yeah. Dunno what's gonna happen next. Probably not another note for quite some time, because if each bomb happened so closely together then the entire city of Ekoda would probably go up in flames within the week. So yeah. Hakuba's gonna get checked into the hospital or something. Yeah.**


End file.
